oh to be 10 years old, with a gouged out eye, watching as your father turned away from you, and showed you that he would never care about you, considered torturing you, threatened to cut your tongue, and do nothing to your abusers who slashed out your eye after ambushing you in a 4v1, and no one made a move to do anything different instead of one (1) person
your mother.
who is desperate and as alone as you are, because you've both just realized that you've given too many years trying to earn the love of a man who was never even capable of seeing you because of his emotional blindness and stupidity
i too, would grow up to be a momma's boy, if in the worst time of my childhood, only one person was on my side, even if it meant going against the entire world at that point in time.
he fought a 4v1, but his mother chose a 10v1 (more than 10; she was surrounded by team black members and her two green members, excluding the rest of her children who were, well, children, didn't do shit). they were both just as alone, and yet she showed that they would forever have each other's back even if no one else would.
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“Take Me”
a/n: viserys is cackling in the background of this lmao, this is also abo, but you can ignore that if ya want idc
daemyra gets a taste of their own medicine with lucemond, and the same exact situation that happened between them happening with the second sons>:)
bold and italics are Valyrian!!!
*_.*_.*_.*_.* *_.*_.*_.*_.*
*_.*_.*_.*_.* *_.*_.*_.*_.*
It was a day of celebration for everyone in Kings Landing.
The day celebrated the betrothal of Lucerys Velaryon to the second son of House Tully.
Inside the main hall, in front of the Iron Throne, music and dancing and laughing could be heard and seen.
The Lords and Ladies galavanted and gossiped, danced and sang, feasted and laughed.
Some looked over at the Heir to the Driftmark Throne, sat next to his soon-to-be-husband with the Queen and Prince Consort sat beside them, to gauge the brunette’s expressions.
Others couldn’t careless as long as they were able to satisfy their greed.
However, one wasn’t.
The One-Eyed second son of former Queen Alicent Hightower and late King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name.
His keen eye kept track of every little detail on his nephew’s face, not once looking away.
Soon, the nephew catches his eye, and the two gaze into each other’s violet and dark orbs, taunting each other to make a move.
It was the uncle who followed through.
Walking towards his seated heart, he stands at his side, and raises a palm up to offer a dance. It catches the attention of all those in attendance, though they attempt to look dismissive and uncaring.
Lucerys stared at the offered hand, before putting his own on top, and was pulled away from his betrothed and soon to be husband after the feasts and festivities to officiate the marriage.
Sauntering to the center was rather easy, as the excited crowd parted, whispering to one another of how Luke’s first dance wasn’t with his betrothed at their own wedding, but with his own uncle - whom he maimed in their childhood.
The nephew-uncle duo soon started a chain of dance as the music picks up, and more Lords and Ladies join them on the dance floor.
“Do you not feel bored at this procession, my dear nephew? It’s rather dull, and lacks the appeal of a true wedding befitting one of the blood of Old Valyria,” Aemond starts, leaning his head in to whisper to his nephew’s ear.
His eye looked around, and he makes contact with the silently furious gaze of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen.
“No, uncle, I find I rather like a dull wedding with so little fanfare. I rather dislike an obnoxiously jubilant one, it makes me feel rather…overwhelmed.”
Aemond twirls his heart, before the brunette quickly hits their hips back together with a soft thud of clothing.
“My dear uncle, I fear this betrothal to a mere second son of a lower House would prove to be unfruitful, and utterly flat,” Lucerys softly whines, leaning his head closer to his uncle’s neck.
His warm breath tickles the fuzz on Aemond’s neck.
“You play a dangerous game, my little dragon.”
“We’ve been playing this game since the day you and I came into this world.”
Aemond hums, “this game can go no further, my Lord Nephew, you will be leaving me behind for a mere second son of House Tully. He knows naught of our House, it’s traditions nor its history.”
“Then take me.”
The two went silent for a few moments, their eyes fixated on each other.
“My dear uncle, you know of our family’s importance, of our family’s history and it’s traditions. You’ve known me since I was but a mere babe. You’ve known me for longer than my betrothed.”
Aemond and Lucerys have long stopped their waltz, halting in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded and covered by a distracted and exuberant crowd from the eyes of outsiders. Their heads were leaned in close to each other, foreheads touching, cheeks nearly doing the same. They could feel each other’s exhales on their lips every time they took a breath. All while they kept their eyes on each other.
“So take me, uncle. Cut through the Queensguard. Take me in the tradition of our House. Take me to Dragonstone, and make me your husband, and I’ll make you mine.”
Suddenly, Aemond’s hand shoots forward, and clutches a side of Lucerys’s face. The alpha’s fingers at the back of the omega’s head, threading through his dark curls, roughly grabbing onto the loose strands.
“My Lord Dragon-“
A loud shout came from the Royal Table.
Daemon had stood up, and unsheathed Dark Sister, and was pointing its sharp blade at his one eyed nephew.
Aemond covers Luke, and whispers gently and quickly into his ear, so that only he could hear the next words coming from his mouth;
“Meet me on the back of Arrax tonight, I shall ensure you and that Tully man shall never wed nor know of the marriage bed, now and forever more. We shall fly swiftly to Dragonstone to wed, and consummate our long-overdue marriage in front of the Septons, and Maesters, and Maids. For you, Lucerys Velaryon, are my dearest heart.”
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